


l'homme dénué de mémoire

by prkchnyl (ryeouknim)



Series: mémoire [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Memory Alteration, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryeouknim/pseuds/prkchnyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everything comes with a price. Everything. Some things just cost more than others.” (― Brom, The Child Thief)</p>
            </blockquote>





	l'homme dénué de mémoire

**Author's Note:**

> this is a 3-year old fic that i found collecting dust in my archive ;A;  
> (obvious with sehun and ryeowook's hair in the fic. i was kinda obsessed with their hair back then)
> 
> this fic just went halfway and i /tried/ to add a few bits so.. uhm.. yeah.  
> sorry if you find the writing style shifting mid-read, i hope it doesnt show much!  
> anyway.  
> i dont remember the original storyline but... we're halfway there lmao.  
> love lots.  
> -rknm

 

It’s another sunset, and Baekhyun stumbles out of his flat to catch a glimpse of the chocolate covered sky. The sky, as he would like to think represents people’s emotions that are now seemingly extinct. There was a time when the sky was blue; there were clouds light and white lazing around during the day, stars and auroras at night. Now, in the morning the sky looks like ice, feels like it too. In mid-day the sky looks harsh, red and blazing and as rough as an unused mountain path. The few seconds between the fading red of the afternoon and the pitch black of the night is Baekhyun’s favorite, where the red mixes with just the bit of black, the sky adapts a warm touch of brown and kind and just a shadow of what used to be.

  
The clock ticks once and the sky turns dark. Baekhyun locks the door to the veranda and stares at the fading photo of a blue sky, wishing not for the first time that he lived during the time his parents did.

  
Trudging to the kitchen, he surveys the fridge and frowns at the lone beer can perched at the bottom. He needs booze tonight but he might have to postpone it for tomorrow. He would have to definitely go shopping for some tomorrow. Claiming a clear glass bottle from the stack just above the sink, Baekhyun places a finger atop the lid of the container, closes his eyes, and thinks of one particular memory. A hue of glowing green swirls around the whites the size of a marble and forms inside the clear glass.

  
It’s just a few seconds for a number of beer cans and Baekhyun has a lot of memories to spare.

  
⊗

  
_It was raining hard; the sky is purple and sick. The wind cursed through the thickness of your coat and you could feel your bones trembling. There was a box left near a post three blocks away from home and you heard a soft mewl from inside it. There’s a cat, wounded, bleeding, dirty, and trembling. Alone, just like you. You pulled the cat close to your chest and tucked her inside your coat._

  
⊗

  
When Baekhyun wakes up, he’s tired, listless, as if he never slept at all. The sleep after removing a memory is the hardest of all, not because of the process but because of the dreams. The dreams—his dreams—consist of mainly the incidents, the few moments before the memory ends. And the hardest is that and he knew before, but would never know now the ending.

  
A glass of cool water and a cup of tea are enough to awaken his senses, and he remembers his agenda for the day. After a short shower, Baekhyun puts on a long sleeved shirt, not nearly enough to block the cold from seeping in, but it won’t be too long before the sky turns an angry red.

  
Baekhyun wraps his arms around his torso as the cold wind hits him, making sure the door is locked. It’s not as if there’s something valuable left inside, just a habit, for his peace of mind. He could hear his neighbor, Jongdae, as he passes by his house belting out a song he probably heard from the radio the moment he wakes up, always the morning person.

  
He arrives at the convenience store in the heart of the city thankful for the regulated heat inside. Baekhyun grabs a few cans of beer, ignoring the burning feeling of the bottle inside his pocket.

  
“Good morning.” Junmyeon smiles from across the counter and Baekhyun smiles back, choosing not the comment on how Junmyeon’s hands tremble when he’s handed the bottle of green and white swirling mess.

  
Baekhyun’s memory; an appropriate payment for things unnecessary.

  
Junmyeon is a man of too little wants and simple living and he’s proud of the fact that he’s never bought anything in exchange for his memory. Baekhyun wishes he would never have to. “What brought you out so early?” He tries for a conversation as he bagged Baekhyun’s liquor.

  
“Jongdae’s waking up the whole neighborhood with his singing. I mean, he’s good but does he need to be so loud?” Baekhyun whines and they share a laugh at the expense of an old friend.

  
Baekhyun tries not to think of Junmyeon as he waves before stepping out of the store. Or Jongin, or Sehun, or Tao. There was an awkward time back then as their tiny group agreed for a little gathering, and then Sehun asked who Jongin is. Everyone was dumbfounded; Tao and Jongdae took Sehun away while Baekhyun and Junmyeon tried holding Jongin together. Jongin crumbled to the ground, and no matter how they tried to pull him and put him back together, Jongin still left the restaurant with a huge missing piece.

  
Baekhyun won’t delete people in his life. Given or not a choice, he wouldn’t. That’s what he tells himself every day. But he doesn’t know what happened between Sehun and Jongin. He doesn’t know what made Sehun throw everything away. He shudders and clutches the beer can to his chest. No, he doesn’t want to know.

  
Baekhyun gets drunk that night, right after the warm brown turned pitch black. When he’s settled comfortably under his blankets, nose buried in the soft of the pillow, he thinks of Kris. Baekhyun buries himself more until his chest tightens, lungs screaming for air. That night as he let himself think of nothing, he dreams of everything. And he knows 4 cans of beer are not enough.

  
⊗

  
_Warm hand touched your cheek and shivers ran down your spine. “What is it?” You can hear yourself saying, and Yifan just smiled at you. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, and your ear beneath a knitted cap. He patted your cheeks, and you felt warmth spreading through your soul. “What?” You prodded, as you leaned towards where his hands press lightly. And Yifan just smiles._

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun wakes up with a sharp inhale, throat dry and painful. He chugs at the water on the side table and forces panic down with it. Not that memory, no. Yifan kissed him that night, just a press on the lips. And then the next day, he was moving away. Somewhere. Somewhere far. Baekhyun. He can still remember how foreign his name sounded in Yifan’s lips. How foreign yet still felt home. No, definitely not this memory.

  
Reaching for a clear glass container in the drawer, Baekhyun cleared his thoughts and focused on a faraway memory. Orange hue spilled on the whites and Baekhyun feels his heartbeat slowing.

  
Baekhyun still remembers. Yifan kissed him that night, and Baekhyun kissed him back.

  
⊗

Junmyeon’s frown slowly etches as he bags Baekhyun’s purchase. The next day he returned to the convenience store buying the same thing, Junmyeon’s nice enough not to comment on it. They just go on with the usual good morning, a few safe topics to discuss and then a curt _see you._

  
It’s a nice day, the first day of summer, and it means longer mornings and shorter afternoons. Cold days. Colder nights.

  
“Baekhyun-ah!” Shouts someone from across the street and Baekhyun raises a hand to cover his mouth, a snicker still leaves his lips.

  
“Hyung! What happened to your hair?” He shouts back and laughs loudly this time as he crosses the street towards the guy with a hair that seemed to house different shades of purple.

  
The guy rolls his eyes and combs through his hair self-consciously. “Sehun happened.” He says with a sigh before dropping his gaze to the plastic in Baekhyun’s hands. “It’s this time of the year already, huh.”

  
Baekhyun makes an effort to at least partially hide the liquor behind his thin legs and behind a smile. “At least it looks good on you, Ryeowook hyung.”He chose not to comment on the other statement. Yes it’s this time of the year already. This day of the year exactly. The coldness of his bones is reminder enough and Baekhyun needs anything but a reminder.

  
“Give me one.” Ryeowook says, reaching for the plastic bag and Baekhyun protectively inches away.

  
“Oh c’mon, give me just one.”The elder pouts and Baekhyun idly wonders when he stopped aging.

  
“You can’t hyung! You still have to work.”Baekhyun wriggles half-heartedly trying to get free of the tight hug he found himself in. Releasing loud bouts of laughter as Ryeowook kneaded the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember when the bag was taken from his hand. “Hyung!” Baekhyun whines and the other chuckles.

  
Ryeowook dangles a huge bottle in front of him, a clear glass bottle with red and white hues swirling inside. “Just give me one and I’ll give this to you as a gift.”It’s like the bottle where they deposit memories for payment, just larger and Baekhyun hesitantly reaches for it.

  
“Hyung, is this yours?” Baekhyun cradles the bottle, the warmth almost too comforting.

  
“Yeah.” Ryeowook smiles. “I mean, that’s mine, but the memories inside aren’t.” Baekhyun glances towards Ryeowook’s store, the _Amygdala_. It’s like a bank, an emotional memory bank. Paying for things in the mall and convenience stores requires memories, but doesn’t keep emotions. Ryeowook’s store on the other hand, houses pretty strong emotions. You give up the emotions and in turn give up the memory that comes with it. Love, hate, sadness, happiness. Baekhyun heard it’s for a price.

  
Before Baekhyun could ask more, the door to Ryeowook’s shop opens and a flock of rainbow hair with the name of Sehun comes bouncing out. Baekhyun let out an almost hysterical laughter as he doubled over while still on his feet, clutching at the bottle and his stomach.

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun’s on his third can of beer when he finally notices the bottle of swirling red and white hues at the far end of the coffee table. He’s on his last can when he should have noticed that Ryeowook didn’t take any. Baekhyun goes to bed with the bottle still clutched to his chest. It’s not like the hues would spill. You don’t see memories floating around thin air.

  
⊗

  
_You were in a park downtown, watching as children filtered in and out of the adjacent playground. The flaming red of the sky was hampered by a huge net enclosing the park, like a safe place. Someone humming from a distance caught your attention and watched as a boy, pale and bright eyed sat on the bench next to yours. "I’m getting tired, I guess I’m dreaming alone. Will you strongly shake me and wake me up?" He sang, and that’s when he noticed you staring. You smiled, and then laughed at the bewildered face you were given._

 

_“You have a nice voice.” You told him and he looked even more surprised when he heard you. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”_

  
_His face relaxed for a bit, but the eyes remained widened, bordering panic. “T-thank you. I guess. I’m new here. My name’s Do Kyungsoo. Do you have a name?” He asked, head titling to the side._

  
_A grin broke from your face and you saw Kyungsoo panicking. You must have smiled really wide this time. People said you look creepy when you do that. And then you’re laughing, low and resonant. “Of course I do. I’m Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.”_

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun wakes up to the warmth spreading in his chest, the bottle of memory empty and his previously white shirt now stained with a barely seen red. The bottle slips out of his hold, topples down the bed. The shattering sound is clear and raw in the early morning but the wild beats of Baekhyun’s heart thumps the loudest in his ears.

  
It’s someone else’s memory in his dreams.

  
After the initial shock, Baekhyun shakily stands to clear the shards scattered around the room along with the empty beer can and wrappers—he stops and drops everything back down as he lurched for the sink, stomach emptying in response to the swelling in his chest.

  
It’s someone else’s emotions mixing with his own.

  
⊗

  
_Nothing beats the feeling of strings giving way for your fingers and nothing beats the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice harmonizing with the sound of your guitar._

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun finds himself in front of Ryeowook’s store the next morning. He doesn’t exactly know what he wants, just that he needs to come. He doesn’t really know what to ask, just that he needs answers.

  
Sighing at the sight of Sehun’s rainbow colored hair, Baekhyun paused in his steps when he noticed that Sehun isn’t alone. He wasn’t that fast to stop himself from realizing that the other guy has his tongue down Sehun’s throat. A sound close to a dying rooster leaves his lips and the two jumps from their very uncomfortable looking position behind the counter.

  
“Uh, hyung” Sehun looks alarmed for a second before he’s back to that bored expression, kiss-swollen lips tugged up to a smirk. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  
Baekhyun feels the urge to roll his eyes at the younger. “Where’s Ryeowook hyung?” Baekhyun does roll his eyes when the other guy, really extremely tall, drapes an arm around Sehun’s shoulders.

  
“He went out with god knows who.” Sehun shrugs, that explains why the brat is manning the shop. Baekhyun knows he never would if he could help it. The younger shrugs his shoulder and Baekhyun freezes. “Chanyeol can you just!” Sehun pushes the other, and Chanyeol mutters behind the wide grin, voice low and resonant, a short “Sorry.”

  
He doesn’t realize he’s backing down towards the door until the small of his back hit the knob hard. “Hyung where are you going?” Baekhyun could hear Sehun asking from inside the shop but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out, get away from them.

  
That’s Chanyeol, owner of the memories now residing in Baekhyun’s head. How could he just remove people from his life and get on with it like it’s nothing? How can he just erase Kyungsoo from his life and fuck around with Sehun as if it were his very first?

  
Anger bubbles up inside him like the harsh red of the mid-day sky.

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun takes the train a moment before the red sky turns brown. He’d reach his destination when the darkness turns to ice.

  
He finds himself a cabin and rests exhausted eyes feeling the train start to move, a soft humming from the engine in the background.

  
It’s scary, that Baekhyun knows where he’s actually going when he hasn’t even stepped a foot outside the city’s border. It’s terrifying to feel emotions welling up inside him when he knows he hasn’t even felt them before.

  
An old lady enters the cabin and asks if she could share, Baekhyun just smiles at her and motions for her to take the empty seat across. He receives a genuine smile in return and his stomach churns. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the cold window. Baekhyun tries to fall asleep, and when he finally does, he’s still afraid.

  
⊗

  
_“We should just take my bed.” You told him, and Kyungsoo pouted. “It’s just… I don’t know how I’m gonna fit all my limbs in your small bed.” You explained and reached out for his hand, waiting for the other to take it._

  
_With the pout still in place, Kyungsoo took your hand, expression resigned. “Okay then. Can’t risk us both falling off the bed. Worse case we could just cut your limbs off.” He told you with a teasing smile and you picked him up, dumping him unceremoniously on the small bed in the middle of the room._

  
_“Welcome home.” Kyungsoo whispered, and you felt your heart swell._

  
⊗

  
Baekhyun boards off the train looking like he hasn’t slept for years. The dreams—memories—just won’t stop and he can feel acid burning his empty stomach.

  
He steps out of the station, cold seeping through his coat and turns left. Baekhyun’s never been to this part of the earth, but he knows where he’s supposed to go, by memory. He feels fright with every step he takes, fear with every corner he turns. The ice cold morning seeks comfort in his skin, and by the time he’s close, the sky’s starting to turn bright red. When he reaches the house looking a lot like his own, or any other house actually, Baekhyun just feels numb.

  
He presses the door bell even though he knows the password. It won’t be appropriate to barge inside a stranger’s house just because you weren’t such strangers in someone else’s memory.

  
The front door opens and a wide eyed boy stands in the doorway. Baekhyun smiles, Kyungsoo’s hazy features in his—Chanyeol’s—memory taking a more solid form as he makes a memory of his own. “Hi.” Baekhyun manages to let out before he’s passing out, cold and empty in Kyungsoo’s arms.

  
⊗

 

_“Hey, Hey” Warm hands find their way to cradle your face and wipe the warm tears trickling downside your cheeks. “Why are you crying?” The laughter in Kyungsoo’s voice dies and makes way for the worry embedded in deep hushes. “I just..” you felt yourself stutter. “I just love you so much, you know that?”_

  
⊗

 

Baekhyun frowns in his sleep, thinking how the memory started and how the memory ends, Chanyeol’s memory, to be exact, but whatever happened back then clearly ceased to exist in the man’s memories now.

  
Something warm touches Baekhyun’s forehead, something warm and wet and Baekhyun startles awake, jolting in the feel of an unfamiliar duvet and sight of unfamiliar cream walls. The light outside the windows shows blazing red, and he must have slept in, in an unfamiliar house nonetheless wondering how he even got there.

  
“Uhm, Hello. How are you feeling?” A soothingly deep voice resounded from his side and Baekhyun sharply turns to his right, finding a slight man with round pensive eyes sitting on his bedside. The small hands wringing a wet towel register next, and Baekhyun sighs.

  
“Kyungsoo..” Baekhyun whispers and watches as the man beside him frowns. Then Baekhyun remembers. This is Park Chanyeol’s Kyungsoo. In Park Chanyeol’s memories, in the house they both lived in, on the bed from Chanyeol’s old flat.

  
These are Chanyeol’s memories. And Baekhyun swallows the sound of Chanyeol’s voice in his head telling Kyungsoo how he loves him so much.

  
“I’m sorry but..” Kyungsoo says, hesitant and guarded. “Have we met before? I’m sorry if I don’t remember. There must be a reason. And you know me?” He sighs, relaxing his posture a bit and placing the wet towel on the basin Baekhyun now sees at the foot of the bed.

  
“N-no I..” Baekhyun doesn’t know what to say though and he shuts his mouth for a second before he blurts out something like: “Hi! You don’t know me and I don’t know you but I somehow have Chanyeol’s memory of you and I don’t know how these things work, I didn’t before and I don’t still now but I didn’t think it involves feelings but it somehow does?”

  
Kyungsoo hands him a glass of cool water, and it saves Baekhyun from saying something improper. The coolness against his throat never fails to wake his senses up and he knows he has to say something when he finished the last drop.

  
“You don’t know me personally.. I’m, a friend of Chanyeol? And he mentioned you a lot of times so…” Baekhyun’s voice cracked and he’s nervous as hell but Kyungsoo’s nodding despite the almost solemn look on his face so it must not be that bad.

  
“I haven’t seen Chanyeol in years.” Kyungsoo says, “How’s he doing?” He sounded sincere and Baekhyun almost frowns. The latest of Chanyeol’s memories with Kyungsoo dated just early last year so it must not have been that long.

  
Baekhyun guesses Chanyeol isn’t the only one who spent clearing a memory or two.

  
“He’s fine.” Baekhyun says, just as Kyungsoo hesitantly asks “What brings you here though?” and Baekhyun bites his lips.

  
“I just.. I had a fight with one of my oldest friends and I had to get away. Didn’t know how I ended up here though. I don’t remember much but I must have been here before. I’m not so sure.” The lie tasted sour in Baekhyun’s tongue and he fights the urge to cringe. It’s not so hard though.

  
In their time, people stops asking when you say “I don’t remember much” and “I’m not so sure”, because it’s almost always true. Some have no idea what other people give up for some things some people just throw away.

  
“You must have.” Kyungsoo agrees with a small quirk in his lips. “Considering you passed out on my doorstep the moment you said hi to me.” Kyungsoo stands up and Baekhyun tries to do the same, stumbling upon the duvet he didn’t know was draped over him while he was unconscious.

  
Baekhyun knows Kyungsoo’s heading to the living room using Chanyeol’s memories as his guide but he still tried to keep up, ignoring the walls lined up with frames of various people. Almost no one back in his neighborhood puts up picture frames anymore knowing they might end up waking up one morning not remembering a thing about them. One photo caught Baekhyun’s attention though. Of Kyungsoo and someone really tall standing beside him, but Baekhyun didn’t see clearly because Kyungsoo beckons him to sit on the couch. From Baekhyun’s memories of the day before, Chanyeol is really tall, so it must have been them.

  
“I think I should go.” Baekhyun says, scratching his head and pointing lamely at the door. “I mean, I swear it’s not a hobby to just barge in and pass out in front of an old friend’s house or something.” Baekhyun’s good with this. It’s easy to pretend like Kyungsoo really is an old acquaintance when Baekhyun knows how Kyungsoo’s moans sound like when he comes.

  
And there it is, the heart shaped smile that made Chanyeol’s heartbeat stutter, that’s making Baekhyun’s heartbeat stutter in his chest right now. Kyungsoo really is beautiful. And Baekhyun makes to agree with Chanyeol’s voice in his head telling him how his smile brightens up the fury red of the afternoon sky.

  
“I hope you patch things up with your friend, then. Come visit soon again and don’t be a stranger.” Kyungsoo says, joining him to the short path going to the front door.

  
Baekhyun was too busy creepily staring at the slight male beside him that he almost banged his head on the door as it opened before they even reached the foyer and he yelps as he backs away a few steps, Kyungsoo’s deep chuckles tickling his ears.

  
“Hi. You’re back early.” Kyungsoo says to the man who walked in and almost knocked off Baekhyun’s head. And Baekhyun was too busy rubbing off his almost offended nose to register the voices and the people in front of him.

  
“We have a guest?” The man says as he bends down to place a quick peck on Kyungsoo’s lips.

  
“Yeah. An old friend. I don’t know if you two have met. This is Baekhyun.” And Baekhyun almost laughs, because he’s sure now that Kyungsoo’s just wildly guessing. They surely haven’t met before. “And Baekhyun, this is Kris.”

  
The laughter dies in his throat though and his hand freezes mid air after rubbing his nose. The person in front of him is incredibly tall, with wide shoulders and a gummy smile Baekhyun tries so hard to forget and fights so hard to remember.

  
The laughter in Kris’ eyes are genuine and naïve and he bows his head with a sheepish smile.

  
“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t do much damage on that nose.” And Baekhyun makes to run away before he hears the words he doesn’t ever want to hear, but he hears it anyway. “I don’t think we’ve met before thought but… Hey!”

  
Baekhyun pushes past the man standing by the doorway, eyes clouded with unshed tears. He runs to wherever his bare feet dares to go and he never stops until he can’t feel his legs anymore.

  
The tears never make it down his cheeks but it doesn’t mean they’re still not there. With a stuttered breath, Baekhyun drops face down on the grassy hill he finds himself in and swallows the sob struggling to be freed in his chest. “Fuck.” He curses and grabs a handful of the greens beside his head.

  
He’s finally found Yifan. Except that Baekhyun isn’t even looking for him. Except that he’s not even Yifan now, he’s Kris. Baekhyun remembers the quick peck to Kyungsoo’s lips, the naïve gummy smile.

  
There’s only one reason why Baekhyun never lets go of his memories with people, of people. Because people do it when they are in pain. Because those memories are painful. And that pain, in Baekhyun’s books, makes him feel alive.

  
Baekhyun lays there for what seems like hours but only minutes have passed. He thinks about the people in his life. And Thinks about how much of them will greet back with a smile when he calls out to them. Not many, but it doesn’t really matter. Not anymore. Because Baekhyun has just seen someone who used to tell him “I love you” every night, tell him “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

  
And this, Baekhyun thinks, exactly is why people trade their memories of someone they used to love, not for the pleasure of something else, but to be freed from the excruciating pain. And Baekhyun thinks people deserve to be rid of that..

  
⊗

 

_“I love you.” You smile at Yifan’s soft whisper against your crown and mumble an assent before you drift to a dreamless sleep_

 

_And you remember the next day, the view of the car as it takes away the kisses and the hugs and the love and the promises he never made and you stayed there watching even until hours after the car turned left hours ago, and you're left with a barely beating heart._

 

⊗

 

Baekhyun stands with wobbly legs, his feet bleeding and cut in ways he couldn’t even imagine but still functional, just like his heart. He needs to get back home. He needs to put himself back together before he goes to _Amygdala._

  
⊗


End file.
